


Baloney Beginnings

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky is bored, Clint's in medical, M/M, No baloney sandwiches were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9003937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: “Harsh, Barnes. Did you break in here just to insult me?”“I came in here,” Bucky began, while knocking his a fist onto the center of Clint’s chest, “because I figured you were bored.”“Well, you were right on that front.”“And I was bored.” Bucky listed the facts on his metal fingers, feet kicking on the sides of Clint’s hospital bed. “So you said.”“Do you like baloney?” Bucky asked, and the change of topic was the last nudge he needed to stop what anyone else would call, ‘checking out’ Bucky but what Clint stubbornly referred to as ‘observing’ him.





	

Clint counted the tiles above his hospital bed before turning to face the door, the flimsy paper crinkling underneath his body as he moved. He was cautious with his arm, still wrapped in a sling and waiting for a cast. Once adjusted on the mattress, he estimated the inches of the wall, the inches of the door and of its frosted glass window. His mind calculated the trajectory from his bed to the window before turning to stare, yet again, at the ceiling. “I’m bored!” he groaned to the empty room. “Can someone send Coulson in here, or a nurse? Or a  _ sexy  _ nurse. Ooh, I know, send in a sandwich! I haven’t eaten anything since the extraction point and--”

A figure walked past the door, its head appearing for a second in the window before disappearing. “Hey! Hold on.” Nothing, no sound, no footsteps retreating or coming closer. A light foot. Natasha? The figure was taller than her, boarder in its form. Steve?

“Come on,” he shouted. “You can’t just lock the door from the outside, there are rules about this sort of thing, ones that are generally found under the False Imprisonment section of the SHIELD Code.”

Clint could almost hear Coulson clearing his throat, reminding him that, no, he’d signed away those privileges when he broke out of the medical wing for the third time in a row. Leave it to Coulson to lecture him in his own brain.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow hover along the the window. The doorknob jiggled and Clint’s eye shot to it for a second, before the figure lifted from the floor into the ceiling, moving so quickly that Clint only caught the shadow of a leg slipping away.

He waited for the groan of the vents, the sound of a person crawling along metal. There was nothing, more silent than a winter's day before snowfall.

His pulse quickened even though he knew this far underneath SHIELD meant it was probably an ally, but there was something so uncertain about the current situation that his body was attuned to prepare. Defenses raised, bow at the ready. Except, Stark had his bow in his workshop. He clenched his one good fist instead.

There was a grate above his bed, and it wasn’t long before familiar fingers, thick and calloused, wrapped around its edges. Blue eyes came into the light and soon a smiling face pushed past the shadow. “How’s your arm?” Bucky asked, calm as day, like he wasn’t talking through a grate, up in the air ten feet above him.

“Hurts like hell,” Clint replied. It had been two months since he’d seen this crazy motherfucker and here he was, breaking into medical. “I didn’t think anyone knew I was back yet.”

“We don’t,” Bucky said, moving back from the grate as he pulled it from the vent. With only a soft stir of air, Clint suddenly found his legs straddled by Bucky Barnes in a masterful movement that hardly jostled his body or injured arm. “We don’t know “officially”, at least.” His smile was an easy mix of delight and satisfaction, and it hit a chord right behind Clint’s ribs that he tried not to think about.

Bucky had moved into Avengers Tower six months ago. It was tense at first, but after they’d stumbled upon Tony Stark’s pool table, the two snipers did nothing but argue angles and gamble away their money for a week straight, before pronouncing themselves best friends.

And if Clint had maybe checked out the long lines of the super-soldier's body as be bent over the edge of the pool table, that’s nobody's business but his own.

Bucky was still sitting across his legs, the weight solid but not too heavy. It felt nice, secure. He looked good too, the bags under his eyes long gone, a flush of adrenaline running under his pale skin. He was wearing a longsleeved kevlar shirt that hid his metal arm, probably to pass by undetected. The fabric of his pants strained against his stretched legs and Clint tried not to think about the man’s groin. That never led to anything good, unless it was late at night in his shower...and, time to think about something else now.

Bucky was speaking, so he focused on the words, “- the tower is boring without you, is all. Steve’s off liasoning with Congress, Stark’s always in his workshop. And did you know they ship Black Widow off on more missions than you?”

“Hey now.” Clint shifted, pulling his arm against his chest as Bucky rocked with the movement, but still the man wouldn’t budge. “We’re about even.”

“Shucks,” Bucky drawled. “Did I touch a nerve, Barton? Are you going to have to measure the size of your manhoods because I assure you, the Widow would win.”

“Harsh, Barnes. Did you break in here just to insult me?”

“I came in here,” Bucky began, while knocking his a fist onto the center of Clint’s chest, “because I figured you were bored.”

“Well, you were right on that front.”

“And I was bored.” Bucky listed the facts on his metal fingers, feet kicking on the sides of Clint’s hospital bed.

“So you said.”

“Do you like baloney?” Bucky asked, and the change of topic was the last nudge he needed to stop what anyone else would call, ‘checking out’ Bucky but what Clint stubbornly referred to as ‘observing’ him.

“What?” he asked, trying his hardest to have a conversation like a normal human being.

“They put it in between two pieces of bread? A baloney sandwich,” Bucky repeated, his Brooklyn accent tinting the words.

“I know what it is, Metal Man. I don’t understand why you’re bringing it up.”

Bucky rolled his hips along Clint’s, and he tried not to think about how he could feel like outline of his cock against his leg, as Bucky reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic sandwich bag.

While his body resettled across Clint’s legs, he could actually focus on what was in Bucky's hand. It was clearly a baloney sandwich on whitebread with the crusts cut off and a very different kind of hunger grew, as his stomach rang across the medical room. “So, you’re feeding me now?”

Bucky shrugged in response, lifting from the bed and sprawling into the chair near Clint’s shoulder and he was almost sad to see him go.

“I told you, I was bored. Let me see your arm.”

“I’m not moving my arm.” He gripped the limb closer to his chest.

“Come on,” Bucky goaded. “Show me your battle scars.”

“Are you serious? You know it’ll hurt like hell.”

Bucky winced, lines creasing his forehead. “So, it’s bad.”

Confusion would have choked Clint’s words so he rolled his eyes to hide it, nerves racing under his skin. Sure, they were friends but Bucky actually seemed, well, angry at the state of his arm. It was almost as if he was personally offended that some alien-space-lizard-robot broke Clint’s humerus.  “What’s with the mother-henning? I expect that out of Captain Spangles, but you? You’re usually the stand in the corner and brood sorta guy.”

Bucky snorted and he wondered at the noise, the carefree cadence of his friend who only a year ago had trouble separating himself from Hydra and the Winter Soldier brainwashing. When he met Clint’s gaze his expression turned serious and suddenly his racing pulse from earlier returned with a vengeance, mixing with his nerves to cause Clint’s hands to sweat. The air shifted yet again, as Bucky dropped his eyes to his lips for a moment, before returning them to his. “Like I said, I missed you.”

The bottom dropped out of Clint’s stomach and the pain of his arm faded from his mind because the only thought that occupied that space was,  _ ‘What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?’ _

Bucky smiled now, the corner of his lip sliding into an upward curl and Clint quickly recalculated the situation, or at least tried to. He kept getting distracted by how much tease Bucky Barnes could hold in his eyes.

With an easy toss, Bucky dropped the sandwich bag onto his crotch and Clint bent forward, over exaggerating the light shock in his groin from the landing. “Watch the goods,” he said as he picked up the bag. “You break it, you bought it.”

“Promise?” Bucky teased, and it snapped Clint’s jaw shut because he could feel the color rising in his cheeks and he would not blush, he would  _ not  _ blush.

Before Bucky could reply, Clint held up the bag with his good hand so Bucky could pull on the other side. With his flesh hand, he pulled out one half of the sandwich and promptly smushed it into Clint's mouth. The move shocked Clint into a coughing fit, all while Bucky laughed and laughed.

Eyes narrowed, Clint chewed and considering his visitor. “I think I liked you better when you were sad and angsty,” he said around a mouth full of baloney.

“Well,” Bucky said, though a chuckle. “I like you full and unbroken.”

“So you decided to fill me up?” Clint replied, then snapped his jaw shut. He swallowed the last of his sandwich, hoping that Bucky would let the innuendo slide.

But of course he didn't, instead, Bucky's lips curled into smirk. “Maybe I did.”

Clint didn't know what to say in response, even as Bucky shifted closer and flicked some bread crumbs off his cheek. “Okay,” Clint began, “I'm not sure what exactly is going on here.”

“I've seen you looking,” Bucky said, suddenly much closer than he was before. “You left, and I realized how much I missed those looks.” The words slid out of his mouth in a easy flirtation and Clint needed to catch up because apparently they openly flirted now.

He remembered the pool table, the way Bucky’s metal hand would wind around the cue stick and his eyes never flicked to Clint, he kept his focus on the game the entire time. Clint would’ve remembered any provocative posing or one of them standing too close to the other to adjust their aim.

“You’re staring.” Bucky’s words were warm and gentle. “You with me?”

“Getting there,” he admitted. And God, but this man’s smirk was made to short circuit his cock. “You should get here.”

“What’s that--?”

Before he could finish, Clint threw his good arm out, grabbing Bucky’s bicep and attempting to pull him forward. His hand gripped the hard muscle, delighted in finally get to touch the strength he’d been eying for months. But it was Bucky who closed the space between them. Helping Clint, with his bad angle and broken arm, to erase the last few inches that separated their lips.

Clint was always shameless, and the moan that left his throat when their lips touched only spurred Bucky to deepen the kiss. A warm, flesh hand came up to cradle the side of Clint’s jaw as he got his first taste of Bucky Barnes. His body erupted with a tingle along his veins, and he wished more than anything that his stupid arm wasn’t broken so that he could grab Bucky by the kevlar and pull him onto the hospital bed.

Just imaging Bucky on top of him made him moan again. He felt a responding smirk against his mouth and, fuck, kissing the smirk off of Bucky Barnes was the kind of thought that had kept him up at night.

The hand on his jaw slid into his hair and tugged on the strands. “You with me?” Bucky asked again, a whisper along Clint’s lips.

“Yea.” His fingers clenched in the fabric. “Fuck, I want-”

Bucky’s metal hand gripped on his hip. “I know. I realized as soon as you left and I kept walking around like a lost pup on the streets of New York.”

Clint snorted, pushing back a little to connect their gaze. “Did you just call yourself a puppy?”

The hand on his hip slid back and grabbed the flesh of his ass hard. “You’re so frustrating, Barton.”

He grinned, wide and wicked. “Guess you’re going to have to shut me up somehow.”

“Of course it’s up to me to feed you, and entertain you, and-”

“Sex me?” Clint suggested.

Bucky’s eyes widened and before Clint could gloat about being able to shock the man, he had recovered, and his blue eyes danced with a plan. Clint could barely open his mouth to ask what he was thinking before Bucky was straddling him again, as smooth as before, only this time he was on his lap instead of his legs. “How’s your-”

“My arms fine just, fuck, don’t move for a second.”

“Why, Barton,” Bucky smiled from across his lap but stilled his hips for a moment. “I thought you only used a bow. But, is that a gun I feel in your pocket?”

Clint groaned, this time from second-hand embarrassment than arousal. “Oh, that was just bad.”

“Bad?” he asked, grinding his hips a hint and Clint’s hands flew to Bucky’s hip. Well, one did, the other spasmed in pain. “Be careful,” Bucky cautioned before grinding again.

“Ah- you’re not helping.”

“Am so.” Bucky smirked. “And you know it,”

Clint rolled his head back on the hospital pillow as Bucky continued rolling their hips together. “Fuck, and aren’t you --oh damn, ya right there-- so fucking cocky.”

“Damn straight.”

“You’re talking too much” was the only warning Clint gave before grabbing Bucky’s cock through his pants. He had a second to gloat in the satisfaction from surprising the man in his lap before unzipping the zipper.

It was Bucky’s turn to throw his head back and moan, as Clint slid out his cock and began stroking it with ease. He watched for hints from Bucky’s moans and twitches, following them as a guide to get the man off. “You’re right, I was looking. A lot.” Bucky smirked at his words, until another twist of Clint’s hand broke it off into a moan. “I just thought you were as straight as one of my arrows.”

“The hard-on in your hand must be quite the shock then,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Clint. I want to touch you.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment, Buck--”

The doorknob jiggled again and their eyes met, wide with surprise. In the next second, Bucky’s weight was lifted off of him and he disappeared into the vent, a swish of air and suddenly Clint was alone. At least, until the nurse entered with the materials to set his cast.

Clint banged his head onto the pillow and groaned, willing his erection away.

“Do you have a lot of pain, Agent?” the nurse, Adrian, asked.

“It’s fine,” he replied through gritted teeth and kept his eyes closed out of fear of looking up to the grate and catching Bucky’s evil smirk.

Adrian was efficient in his duty, setting Clint’s arm in less than ten minutes. He stayed perfectly still the whole time, and knew that the nurse was eyeing him with suspicion. Clint’s loud-mouth was legendary down in medical afterall.

“There you go,” Adrian said. “You’re free to go whenever you want.” He collected his supplies, waiting for Clint to move until he realized he intended to stay on the hospital bed. “Or you can rest for a moment…”

“Yea, that.” Clint looked around the room, hoping for some assistance from the walls. “Rest.”

“Okay, Agent.” The hesitancy was clear in the nurse’s voice. “I’ll just...leave…”

The door closed behind him and Bucky was in his lap in the next second. Clint groaned again, this time from embarrassment. “Oh god, Buck, that was close.” Instead of staying on his lap, Bucky scooted lower until his mouth was poised right on top of Clint’s crotch. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“No one is going to come back.”

“I’m not really in the position to…,” he trailed off, gesturing to his newly casted arm. Bucky unzipped his jeans, while nodding at Clint’s words.  “I won’t be able to…” And then Bucky swallowed him in one smooth motion. “Oh, fuck, Buck!” He tried, and failed, to not to lift his hips into Bucky’s mouth. His cock filled rapidly around Bucky’s tongue and, shit, he was good at this. “Not your first rodeo?”

Bucky snorted from around Clint’s cock before popping off his skin. “Do you really want me to stop and tell you my seedier WWII stories?”

“Yes? No? No. But also yes, because that sounds hot as fuck.”

The man’s hair tickled Clint’s thighs as he shook his head with amusement. “Storytime’s later.”

“Sucking time now?”

Bucky groaned. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You seem to like it.”

Bucky flicked his tongue along the tip of his cock. “Yea, I seem to.”

And then they finally, mercifully, stopped talking and Clint’s world narrowed down to the place where Bucky’s mouth twisted around his cock, where his hand fondled his balls. The heat from earlier had simmered while his cast set, but it flooded back with a vengeance.

He was in freaking medical, in SHIELD, with Bucky Barnes sucking him off and, damn, the thought alone would’ve been enough to set him off but then Bucky’s teeth ran lightly along the underside of his cock and he was done, exploding line after line of cum down Bucky’s throat as the man swallowed each drop.

After a moment, he was finally able to open his eyes and had to close them immediately. Bucky’s blue eyes glinted with satisfaction, his smirk ever present, but now his lips were swollen pink from Clint’s cock. The image was just too pretty. He felt Bucky’s cheek nuzzle at his inner thigh and opened his eyes again. “Damn.”

“Good, huh?”

“You’re such a cocky bastard. I should go away more often.”

“Please don’t,” Bucky said, voice light and teasing as he licked away some remaining cum off Clint’s skin.

“Yea, you’re right. This is way better.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Bucky asked, as he lifted from the mattress, adjusting his obvious erection.

“I want to go wherever I need to go to get  _ that _ up my ass.”

Bucky chuckled, warm and satisfied. “Those mental images won’t help this go down enough to walk through SHIELD.”

“Think thoughts of IEDs.”

Bucky lifted an eyebrow. “You’re twisted.”

“Is it working?”

“Kind of. Avengers Tower, now. Then we’ll see about you sitting on my lap while your arm heals.”

“Aye, aye, Sergeant.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my challenge words, Femur (which I mistakenly changed to arm) and Baloney. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Happy Holidays :D


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